warm greetings, humans.

5/12/2025 memories of going home
I realize how difficult it has been to write. To gauge how vulnerable I have to be for a void that may become my very own digital burial or on the occasion that some stranger may stumble upon my ramblings. Both scenarios, terrifying. But I still do yearn for a place to think out loud without the fear of being wrong, or being forgotten or simply practicing just to feel through each word.
It is comparable to self-drowning and convincing yourself it is the only way to learn how to swim. I’d have to claw through the edges of my mind the words pouring out of my mind when I am unable to hold a pen, during car rides, bus rides, or motorcycle rides. When I’m reading, I know I should not stop. And when I see the familiar blank page, my words are all gone.